Through the Moonlight
by blackmoon16
Summary: Hermione, trying to sneak back to her rooms in the middle of the night, comes across a badly injured Professor Snape. Will the revelation of his dangerous work change her mind about her surly professor?
1. Chapter 1

'How could I have let this happen?' Hermione seethed to herself as she attempted to sneak back up to the Gryffindor Tower.

Sometime in her third year she discovered a long forgotten room in the dungeons. She frequently visited the room to isolate herself from pestering questions of the other students who needed tutoring or told her she worked too hard. It was her solitude that she still frequented three years later.

But tonight… she had fallen asleep while trying to decipher the intricate and delicate Ancient Runes project she had undertaken. And now at 2 am she woke with a crick in her neck and the horrible task of having to sneak back to her bed on the opposite side of the castle.

Frustrated by her negligence, Hermione quickly and quietly walked up the dungeon stairs into the Great Hall… and stopped in surprise at the sight of the front doors ajar.

Heart pounding in her chest, she frantically searched for the intruder. Nothing was out of the ordinary and the silence was deafening. She had just convinced herself that it must have been Filtch prowling the grounds when the moonlight filtering in from the doors gleamed off an object tucked far back in the dark alcove to her left. It looked as though something had been carelessly tossed to the side as someone had entered.

Approaching cautiously she let out a strangled yelp as the object became recognizable.

The Death Eater mask lay face up turned towards her. She could see a smear of blood streaked down the front, along with a couple of bloody fingerprints.

In fear, she slowly started to back up, but was stopped again by another shock. A muffled moan broke the silence around her. As she strained her eyes, she could just make out a black lump hidden in the shadows behind the mask.

Drawing her wand she was prepared to wake the entire bloody castle because she was not going to let a Death Eater escape. Opening her mouth she concentrated to cast her patronus, but before she could gather her happy thoughts, pale hands appeared from the shadows, and silently summoned her wand from her hands.

Staring down at her empty hands in shock, she was faced with an important choice: fight or flight. She could run to find help, this Death Eater was obviously injured, but there was a high possibility of his escape. Or she could stay and fight and yell her goddamn head off. Balling her hands into fists she made her decision. The bastard wasn't going to escape, even if it turned into a physical fight.

She watched as a figure slowly crawled into the moonlight. Pale features stared out at her, black eyes locking onto hers full of fire and glazed in pain. Ebony hair lay in lank, matted strands across his shoulders. He attempted to rise but quickly stumbled back to the ground leaving bloody handprints and a broken twisted leg behind him.

"Professor?" she asked in disbelief.

"A-and… they call you… the br-brightest witch… of her… age," he said between gasps.

She came quickly to his side.

"W-what are… you doing? Y-you should not… touch the… _greasy_ bat…the u-ugly, evil …. Death Eater," he spat.

"If you're a Death Eater, I'll eat my homework."

There was a wheezing chuckle in response.

"I need to get you to Madame Pomphrey."

"NO!" he shrieked, grabbing her robes and pulling her down. His eyes were wild with pain and fear. He needed medical attention immediately. Hermione tried to think of a way to get help without him noticing, but she was afraid any sudden movement would push him into shock. Swallowing she felt tears in her throat. Seeing her Professor so broken and vulnerable was disquieting, and she couldn't wrap her mind around it.

As she gaped at him, he seemed to gain some composure. "Help me… help me to my rooms," he whispered, pleading with her.

Without saying a word, she tucked her arm around his waist and pulled. They slowly rose to a stand, and she was appalled at how thin he was. He couldn't have weighed much more than her, but was at least a foot taller in height. He leaned heavily on her and she could feel blood from his various wounds dripping down her back. The situation was so surreal that the only coherent thought she had was that under the metallic scent of his blood, he smelled of spices… and the ocean. And she thoroughly enjoyed it. This was a thought she never conceived she'd have about her Professor, although she'd never thought she would be helping his bleeding self back to his private rooms either.

As they got further into the dungeons, his breathing grew heavier and soon Hermione was dragging him more and more as they walked. They rounded a corner close to her secret room and came to a dead end.

"Sir…there's nothing here…."

His only response was to point to the wall. As they reached it, he carefully placed his hand in the middle of the bricks. There was a soft glow around his hand as they shifted apart to reveal his rooms. As they stepped inside Hermione realized that she was supporting her Professor's full weight, and that he had passed out. Whether from blood loss or pain, she wasn't sure. Gently laying him down, she dug into his pockets until she found her wand.

" _Mobilicorpus."_

His body lifted a few inches off the ground. Hermione quickly ran from room to room, stopping momentarily to admire the vast library she found behind one door, until she discovered his bedroom.

The room was one of the most surprising parts of the night, as the décor was quite tastefully done not in Slytherin green, but only in shades of black, white, and grey. A large black bed dominated the majority of the room. Her face reddened slightly as she realized the bed was gently draped in soft silk sheets. Lowering him into his bed, she pealed back his robe to see the full extent of his injuries.

His leg was completely mangled and twisted so that his foot pointed in the opposite direction. She could see the shattered bones through his torn flesh and the sight made bile rise up in her throat. Blood pooled and soaked his clothing from various cuts that seemed random in their affliction, and whose purpose seemed only to inflict pain.

Using her wand she started the healing process.

" _Episkey._ "

Her Professor's leg rightened itself with a snap. The shattered bones started to piece together and his skin closed.

" _Vulnera Sanentur."_

She watched his flesh knit back together effectively stopping the bleeding, but leaving raised, red scars in their wake.

Once she had finished she turned and promptly threw up on his stark white rug. As she cleaned up the mess, she heard her Professor laughing from the bed. The sound was deep and rich, and absolutely unsettling.

Standing upright she gawked at him. At her confusion, he stopped laughing at her, and turned instead to his side table to pull out various potions that he swallowed one after the other. Ignoring her, he took out his wand and pulled memories from his head in thick silvery strands. Placing them in an empty vial he held in out into the air. Fawkes appeared with a bright flash, grabbed the vial, and disappeared again with a squawk.

Turning to face her, Hermione could see the exhaustion on his face, but the vulnerability was gone. His eyes had turned to ice. With a sneer he said, "And do tell Miss Granger, what exactly are you still doing here?"

Even indisposed on his black silk sheets, he demanded authority.

"Well… I-I, you see…" she babbled, and then burst into tears. The stress of the night was too much, plus she was covered in blood and vomit, and had discovered her Professor was a Death Eater or was at least pretending to be one.

He continued to stare at her while she cried before saying, "How very incoherent of you. Is this what it takes to make the Gryffindor lioness shut up?"

Her mouth fell open and with tears streaking her cheeks, she lost control and started screaming, "WELL _SIR,_ I FOUND YOU ON THE VERGE OF DEATH. I CARRIED YOU ALL THE WAY BACK HERE AND HEALED YOUR INJURIES. ME, A MUDBLOOD, WHILE YOU ARE STILL IN YOUR DEATH EATER GARB." Taking a calming breath she finished, "I think I deserve a little gratitude."

Professor Snape's eye narrowed at her and he rose out of his bed to tower over her. "Gratitude? Appreciation is given to those that have earned it, not to know-it-all Gryffindor's testing their courage by wandering around the castle in the dead of night. Detention Miss Granger, with me every night at 8 pm, for the next week."

"How d-dare," she stammered. "I saved your life!"

"And I spared yours!" he roared. "If I had meant you true harm, you would have been dead when you allowed me to take your wand. Or did you think brains and intellect were all it took to protect against a killing curse?"

She glared at him in rage. His eyes looked even darker in the dim candlelight and she found nothing behind the coldness held there. She vividly remembered the deep baritone laughter he had uttered minutes ago but the memory seemed like an amusing contradiction compared to the man before her.

Dropping her gaze from his sneer she turned to leave.

"I will escort you back to your rooms."

"But sir, you were grievously injured, you need rest! You shouldn't even be standing."

"Do not presume to tell me what I can or cannot handle," he whispered coldly.

"Yes sir," she said still staring at her feet.

The walk back to the Gryffindor Tower was silent and awkward. Hermione's mind was racing and her heart pounding with adrenaline. She tried to ignore the man in front of her, but she couldn't miss his abnormally slow gate or slight limp. While she had healed his fatal wounds, she wasn't a practiced healer. He probably had numerous internal injuries and breaks that weren't as obvious. He was most likely in immense pain.

She watched his back as they walked. His heavy cloak lain abandoned in his rooms, and without it she could really see what a slight figure he made. He was present at all the required meals, but now that Hermione thought about it… she couldn't remember him eating much.

She was so lost in thought that she didn't notice that they had arrived. Looking up she found that he was staring at her with an intensity that she didn't understand. His eyes were pools of ice but as she met his gaze, the ice seemed to crack. She felt an overwhelming pain of snapped bones rubbing against each other and a deep, deep sorrow that left her on her hands and knees gasping. As their eye contact broke the pain faded away and her Professor was already striding around the corner and out of sight.

Entering her room, she landed face first on her bed exhausted. She didn't bother to change or even wash her Professor's blood from her skin.

As she sunk into a deep sleep, the revelation that had been working through her mind all night came forth:

First that Professor Snape was a Death Eater, but that it was the logical conclusion that he was spying for the Headmaster and the Order.

And second that he was not going to survive this war without her help. And help him she was indeed going to do.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you everyone for the views and reviews! They are a great encouragement, and I look forward to hearing what you thought of this chapter [;**

* * *

"Hermione? Hello?"

"Hmm…?"

Harry and Ron shared a glance and then looked back at their absent companion. She was staring off blankly, book in front of her, but she hadn't flipped a page in the last 15 minutes.

"Hermione, I've decided to leave Hogwarts because I don't believe my studies are _really_ going to give me an advantage in the job market," Ron said shoveling food into his mouth.

His comment seemed to soak into her brain. Snapping to attention, she smacked him on the head with her book. "Ronald! Don't you dare!"

"Ow! There she is!" he said turning to Harry.

Harry looked at Hermione quizzically. "Are you alright? You seem preoccupied."

She waved away his concerns and jumped back to studying her book. "I'm fine! I just stayed up a little too late studying."

The boys rolled their eyes and went back to arguing about the technicalities of quidditch. Hermione tuned them out and studied her dark professor under her eye lashes. She didn't have a logical reason to keep the events of last night from the boys, but she just couldn't trust them to keep the information about Professor Snape a secret. Ever since Sirius had been killed at the end of last year, Harry had taken every opportunity given to blame Professor Snape.

It was hard to imagine the deep grief and sorrow Harry had to be suffering. To have wanted somewhere, someone to call home and to have found that in Sirius, only to have had him been murdered directly in sight… With no body for closure, to have that dream disappear completely in mere seconds… There was a darkness to Harry now. She could see him fighting it, and fighting to have things go back to when he wasn't expected to defeat the world's most dangerous megalomaniac. And so he clung to his hatred of Professor Snape because it was easier to blame an adult for screwing things up than to admit that his actions had caused his only family to die.

She had been keeping a close watch on Harry since school started but he seemed determined to keep everything bottled up. She tried to get him to let go of everything but she knew if he didn't want help there was nothing she could do to relieve the pain he was in. And so… she tried to focus on other things. Mainly why her Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was badly injured, dressed as a Death Eater, in the middle of a school night.

She had felt his eyes on her all throughout breakfast. Attempting to avoid direct eye contact was difficult but she was afraid of what would happen if their eyes met again. Last night she had skimmed his mind when she looked in his eyes, and the pain and sorrow had left her frightened and scared…

But she was a Gryffindor.

Looking up at the teachers' table she observed that everyone was behaving normally, except Professor Snape. He was staring directly at her, unblinking and unashamed. He looked murderous.

"Why is the slimy git looking at you like that? He looks like he's going to poison your breakfast," Ron asked bewildered. Both of the boys were sneaking glances at the professor, but he was still staring directly at her, breakfast and tea untouched.

"I-I don't know," she stammered.

"Probably looking for a reason to take more points off, the bastard," Harry spat. "We pulled ahead of Slytherin after that last quidditch match. He must want to ensure they win the House Cup this year."

"Hmm, yeah. Probably," Hermione said unconvinced. She dropped her gaze back to her textbook, trying to cram as much knowledge about their Defense lesson as possible before their class at the end of the day. She didn't want him to find any fault with her. As they stood up to go to their first lesson she still felt his glare burning into her back. Maybe he thought if he stared at her long enough she'd have a mental break and forget the events of last night.

The day seemed to crawl by for Hermione. Exhaustion overwhelmed her throughout her lessons, and she had multiple teachers ask if she was alright when she didn't volunteer to answer every question. Heading towards their Defense class she felt nervous, concerned to see how Snape was going to act towards her. All too soon she was sitting behind her desk waiting for her professor to make his entrance. With a slam of the classroom door he stalked into the room, black cloak billowing behind him. Any signs of his injuries last night were gone, along with any vulnerability. As always his tall figure demanded silence and authority.

"Today we will be practicing nonverbal spells. Who can tell me the advantage of a nonverbal spell?" his voice was deep and quiet, but commanded the student's attention.

No one raised their hands, not even Hermione.

"Can no one use the mass between their ears? Or is everyone bumbling dunderheads today?" He looked around the room. Hermione half-heartedly raised her hand, and he nodded at her.

"Nonverbal spells have the distinct quality-"

"In your own words Miss Granger, if I wanted you to recite the textbook we would all take turns reading aloud," he interrupted. "Now tell me, simply, what use a nonverbal spell can have."

Hermione paused. Feeling his eyes burrowing into her, she raised her gaze to meet him. He was ice and hatred. "Your adversary has no warning about what kind of magic you are about to perform, which gives you a spilt-second advantage."

"Correct. This could mean the difference between life and death." Hermione turned red in embarrassment knowing the double meaning of his statement as he referenced how easily he took her wand from her last night.

"Now, you will divide into pairs. One partner will attempt to jinx the other without speaking. The other will attempt to repel the jinx in equal silence."

Hermione paired with Neville and went to stand near Harry and Ron. The class struggled to complete the assigned task, and it wasn't until half the period was over that Hermione had a breakthrough. Closing her eyes she tried to find the source of the magic inside her mind. It was like a well of fire tucked behind closed doors and by tapping into that well she felt her powers surge. Concentrating solely on the jinx she wanted to use: _Tarantallegra,_ she felt her magic form and blast out the end of her wand. Neville, having been struck in the chest, started dancing around the room uncontrollably.

She felt triumph at her accomplishment until she spied Professor Snape's barely concealed rage across the room. She quickly spoke the counter curse and Neville stopped thrashing around.

"Good job Hermione!" he said cheerfully.

"Thanks! Your turn! Try to tap into your inner magic."

He nodded in confusion, but proceeded to try and silently jinx her.

Near the end of class no one else had successfully accomplished the nonverbal spell, and the Slytherins were getting antsy. They started spelling wads of parchment to fly into Hermione's bushy curls. She attempted to ignore them but her temper started to get the better of her when she realized that Professor Snape was watching the entire incident with a smirk on his face. She felt her anger rising.

"Hermione? Uh… your hair is standing up…" Ron whispered to her.

She felt the crackled of magic around her as it sent jolts of energy through her hair. Turning she saw Draco Malfoy chuckle and send a wad soaring towards her, but as it got closer it slowly incinerated. With a swish of her wand she sent a jelly-legs curse directly at him and fell to the floor.

"ENOUGH!" Professor Snape shouted, sending the counter curse at Malfoy. "Class dismissed. Miss Granger, a word please."

Ron and Harry sent her sympathetic glances as the class shuffled out. Soon it was just the two of them and his anger and hatred were palpable in the air. With a wave of his hand the classroom door slammed shut and locked.

She felt her heart speed up and her body began perspiring with fear. "Sir, I apologize for my action in class today. I should not have lost my temper over such a trivial thing."

He continued to sit at his desk in silence, staring at her in deep contemplation. Finally he said, "Who have you told?"

Her mind went blank with confusion. "Excuse me sir?"

"I will not repeat myself. Who have you told?"

She continued to stare at him with perplexity.

"I bet it was Potter and the Weasley brat," he seethed. "Did you have a good laugh about it? The dirty, slimy _git_ , crawling back broken and beaten from one master to the other. I AM NOT TO BE PITIED!"

Realization dawned on her. He was embarrassed of his predicament, and the way she had found him last night. "I assure you sir that I have and will not tell anyone. I understand the importance of your secret. To be brash, Harry and Ron loath you, I wouldn't trust such information in their hands. I will keep my silence."

"Do not pretend to understand such adult matters Miss Granger, you have barely scratched the surface of what's been hidden from your ignorant mind," he whispered. His calm was irrational and pushed her off balance in the conversation.

"I am not a child! I have seen-"

"You have seen NOTHING! Your experience of war is a sheltered façade fabricated to protect your innocence. You know nothing. You are a kitten among snakes."

Hermione stepped forwards in rage. Slamming her hands on his desk she yelled, "Then teach me! I am done hiding behind lies! I am ready for the truth!"

"You do not know what you ask," he stated calmly.

She stepped back and turned to leave the room.

"Detention tonight, be here at 8 pm."

She made no obvious reaction that she had heard him, but he recognized the slight falter in her gait. He knew she would come, and would mostly likely even be early.

Reaching out he ran his hands over the scorch marks her uncontrolled magic had burned into his desk when she had stuck out in her anger. She was becoming volatile. Albus seemed to think that she would be an asset to the Order, but he didn't trust her. She was just a petulant child. He'd see how long she would last when faced with the realities of war.

Hermione stormed out of the classroom and ran straight into Harry and Ron. Harry took one look at her face and said, "What did the bastard do?"

"Calm down. I have detention-"

"Ugh, that's so unfair," Ron interrupted.

"-for the next week," she finished with a glare at him.

Both of their mouths dropped open in shock. "Snape can't do that."

" _Professor_ Snape, Harry," she automatically corrected.

"It's completely unfair."

"I did hex Malfoy in the middle of class."

"Yeah… but he totally deserved it."

"He did, but I was obvious about it. Maybe I should take a note from the Slytherins and be sneakier in my curses," she mused out loud.

Both of the boys stopped and turned. Ron dropped to his knees and took her hands in his. Looking at her very seriously and he said, "Promise me 'Mione that you will never, ever become like those sneaky Slytherins."

"Ron, seriously…" she said trying to pull away.

"Promise me!"

She rolled her eyes. "Okay. I promise."

Both the boys pulled her into a tight hug, giggling. "Honestly you guys, you're making a scene."

They laughed and walked towards the Great Hall for dinner. She sighed watching them. They were like brothers to her, and during their walk, Snape's words had started sinking in. They _were_ children. She felt it now, especially watching the two of them goof off together. But what all the adults seemed to be ignoring was whether their age was really going to matter in the end. There was no escape for them, and everyone seemed preoccupied with trying to protect them rather than to prepare them for the inevitable outcome.

Snape might be willing to teach her if she played her cards right. She decided she was going to test it tonight. Watching her boys argue over insignificant things at dinner made tears come to her eyes. Change was coming. She felt it more and more every day. The boys felt it as well, but instead of clinging to familiar comforts like books and her studies, she decided she was going to dive headfirst into her functionality. Then at least the boys might have a fighting chance, when the danger truly arrived. She sighed as she watched them flip food at one another across the table. This was going to be a lot of work.

* * *

Hermione knocked on the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom door at 7:55 pm.

"Enter."

Walking inside she found that all the desks had been pushed to the corners of the room… except one. Her professor motioned to the sole desk. "Sit."

The seat faced him as he sat behind his desk. He was examining her as she squirmed uncomfortably in her seat. The silence was unnerving and he was completely motionless. If she hadn't been able to see him, she would have thought the room was empty.

After 5 minutes of silence he steepled his fingers and said, "Do you enjoy hanging around the two most idiotic students in your house?"

Her jaw dropped at his insolence.

"I suppose I should give them slightly more credit, Longbottom has far surpassed them on the idiocy scale," he continued.

"Neville is NOT-"

"Maybe, you just enjoy the attention you're given being part of the Golden Trio. Tell me, Miss Granger, do you enjoy being the Savior's whore?"

She saw red. Jumping out of her seat she charged at him momentarily forgetting about her wand. He quickly immobilized her and she fell to the ground with a thud. Standing up he towered over her, and using his wand doused her in icy water. She coughed and spluttered, but thick ropes help her limbs tight.

"I apologize. My words were harsh, but I needed to test a theory." With a flick of his wand, he dried her and dissolved the ropes holding her. She was startled when he reached down and helped her up.

"Do you know anything about elemental magic?" he asked.

"Elemental magic?" She was dazed by his change in conversation. "Like earth, water, air, and fire?"

"Take notes."

She scrambled to pull out a piece of parchment and ink.

"All magic is based and formed on the four elements and every spell you cast belongs to one of them. For most people this has no meaning, but there are a select few that are gifted with sensitivity to one of the elements. This can be a curse and a blessing." He paused, thinking. "Being gifted at one element means that, that element's spells will become innate to the person, and that person will be given the opportunity for more power.

A gift such as this is rare and can be used to great advantage. But all power comes at a cost and each element has weaknesses." He handed her a small book titled: _Elemental Magic and Its Development Throughout Wizarding History._ "Read this tonight, and tomorrow I expect a report on your weaknesses."

"I'm sorry sir?" She didn't understand how this pertained to her.

"Come here and observe." He pointed to a spot on his desk. There were two deep scorch marks in the shape of hands.

"What happened sir?"

"You did that, earlier today."

"W-what?" She stared in confusion at the marks on his desk. Placing her hands into the deep burns she found that the groves formed perfectly to her. Shaking she looked at her hands and was surprised to see the sleeves of her robes were burned. She suddenly realized why Professor Snape had doused her in water.

"Dismissed, Miss Granger," he said convinced he'd gotten his point across. Turning he headed for the exit.

"Sir?" she called.

He stopped but didn't turn around.

"I would like to ask if you'd teach me. I-I want to be prepared for what's coming. I know I'm young but that's not going to matter in the end. I'm ready to learn." She wasn't coherent in her delivery, but she heard him sigh. He didn't answer, just quietly left her to herself.

Hermione left the room and snuck down to her secret hide away. Opening the book she started to read:

 _"The elements: earth, air, water, and fire were the first documented forms of magic. Wizards and witches, before the invention of the wand, were individuals sensitive to particular elements. With practice, said witches and wizards could manipulate any object associated with their element._

 _Merlin the Great was the first known wizard to have power over all four elements, and became known as the Elemental Master. He was also the wizard to first invent the wand. The wand supplied the extra push needed for ordinary people to tap and channel their hidden magical powers. Merlin used the four elements to create spells, and taught ordinary humans how to use magic effectively tripling the magical population. Over time less and less people were able to tap into their magical resources and it is believed that the ability to perform magic at all is slowly dying out of the population. Even rarer still are the Elementals, or magical folk who still in modern times have a sensitivity to one of the four elements."_

She skimmed through the book until she reached a page detailing how the elements affected the Elementals.

 _"Fire Elementals contain the ability to control and physically manipulate flames. This includes incineration of objects, depleting oxygen, creating fire, and in some cases throwing flames. In rarer cases Fire Elementals can manipulate the temperature of objects, whether heating them, or subtracting their heat causing the object to become delicate._

 _Fire Elementals rely on the sun and generate most of their power from its rays. Naturally, their power grows weaker at night or in absence of light._

 _Curses, hexes, and transfiguration spells are based on the fire element and Fire Elementals will have a natural ability towards those studies._

 _Water is the main weakness for Fire Elementals, and while small amounts will weaken the caster, large amounts will prevent the caster from being able to manipulate flames at all. The biggest weakness of the Fire Elementals and their creation of flames is highly dependent upon the caster's emotional state. Without proper control the caster could be consumed and killed by their own flames. "_

Hermione lowered the book into her lap and found that she was crying. This…this had been part of the change she had felt coming, and as much as she wanted to believe she was prepared for this… she wasn't. She had never been extremely hot headed when it came to her emotions, but the idea of herself possibility being the cause of her own destruction scared her more than Voldemort ever could.

She had no idea how she had never heard of this type of magic. She wondered why it wasn't taught at Hogwarts. Picking the book back up, she continued to read:

 _"Water Elementals contain the ability to manipulate and control water. Most of these elementals may only physically move water to most commonly create waterfalls, tidal waves, whirlpools, etc… But in very rare circumstances the user gains the power to manipulate only the constant state of the water. These casters are typically called Ice Elementals. While they are able to turn change the state of water into gas as well as ice, ice is the easier of the two to create hence the name._

 _Water Elementals are considered the weakest of the Elementals because their powers are dependent on the amount of water in close proximity to the caster. Ice Elementals are slightly more dangerous because they can pull and manipulate very small amounts of water, such as in living organisms, and turn it into ice or gas. Water and Ice Elementals are also dependent upon the moon for their power, and find their biggest increase of power at night. While not being significantly weaker to the other elements, Water and Ice Elementals feel a larger drain when interacting with their element, and are easily pushed into exhaustion._

 _Defensive spells are rooted in the water element, and will come naturally to the Water and Ice Elementals. Potions work, while not being specifically based on an element, has its roots in water, and will give an advantage to the caster. One unique skill only available to Water and Ice Elementals is the ability to create new spells, though the created spells cannot be rooted in their own element of water._

 _Air Elementals contain the ability to physically manipulate air. The user can redirect wind, increase or decrease wind speeds, and in rare circumstances have the ability to fly. Air Elementals can be extremely dangerous by using air to slice flesh, or even by removing the air from another's lungs._

 _Air Elementals face weakness indoors and find extreme power in wide open areas, especially when outside. Charm spell work is based on the air element, and Air Elementals will have a natural gift towards it. Air Elementals are considered the strongest Elementals, and should be approached cautiously because their strength can be increased by an extreme emotional response._

 _Earth Elementals contain the ability to directly control or manipulate the natural minerals or substances of the earth, such as granite, soil, sand, rock, etc. Though they cannot directly control man made materials such as aluminum or plastic. They are considered the most destructive of the Elementals and can cause earthquakes and if in close proximity the eruption of volcanoes._

 _Their abilities are strongest when they are in direct contact with the earth and can be easily weakened when lifted from the ground or submerged in bodies of water. Earth Elementals can become a danger to themselves when manipulating the earth, by easily rattling internal organs or breaking bones._

 _Healing magic is based on the earth element, and Earth Elementals will have a natural affinity for it. They have also have a natural resistance against most diseases and even some curses._

 _Elemental Masters are rare, and only a handful of individuals have been noted to have such a gift, those being-"_

Hermione sighed in frustration to find the information had been ripped out of the book. Obviously Professor Snape did not want her to know everything, but it was apparent that he knew more than the average person about this obscure branch of magic. If she had to guess, she would bet that he was an Elemental. Remembering the ice in his eyes, she convinced herself that he was an Ice Elemental. She chuckled. If that was true, it would explain his cold demeanor. But it would also mean that they could be each other's greatest weaknesses. This could be a great learning opportunity or a disaster. She would find out at her detention tomorrow.

Leaving her room in the dungeons she realized it was much later than she had thought. The empty hallways were silent, and it seemed very reminiscent of the night before. But as she passed through the Great Hall she found the doors were closed and nothing stirred.

She made it to the tower uneventfully but as she passed the last window before the entrance to her rooms, she spied a figure on the grounds.

Professor Snape stood near the lake unmoving. He seemed to be staring off at nothing. The moonlight flickered off the water of the lake, brightening his figure, and she could see him clearly. His expression was one of pain and loneliness. He seemed to represent the very idea of solitude. She felt sorry for him, but knew that he would hate her pity. A desire to understand him filled her, and as if he knew she was watching he turned to stare up at her window. She watched his sorrowful expression disappear into a carefully placed mask of neutrality and she moved on before she could see more. It wasn't her place to impose on his moments of weakness, and she felt guilty for spying.

Lying down in her bed she contemplated how much her view of her sultry professor had changed in a day's time. He went from being an untouchable example of authority and control to being just… a man. And she wasn't exactly sure she could handle that many revelations in a day, so she rolled over and let herself drift to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

7:50 pm and Hermione was once again standing outside of her Defense classroom, staring at the hard, worn wood in front of her. She wondered what would happen if she just turned and walked away. She doubted Professor Snape would go out of his way to find her. It was obvious he had no interest in furthering her education. By stepping through this door she was fully accepting her role in the war, and putting herself more at risk. Was it worth it?

Professor Snape had ignored her presence all day. After his relentless glaring yesterday, she thought the loss of his attention would be a much needed break, but she was wrong. If it was possible she felt even more weighed down without his gaze. She realized that his stare had reassured her that she was something besides an overachieving school girl. Without his acknowledgement it was almost like the events of the past couple days had never happened and the loss of that was more catastrophic than she could have ever imagined. Now that she had tasted the truth, she could never go back. And yet he had continued to ignore her all day, making her question her sanity.

She had tried staring at him blatantly all through breakfast, but he hadn't looked up from his uneaten food. In class, she had raised her hand for every question, but he had glossed over her like she didn't exist. It had gotten to the point that she had stood up in the middle of class to garner his attention. But without glancing in her direction he said, "Sit back down and stop disturbing this lesson."

And so she sat, hating her desperation but being unable to contain herself. The rest of the day inched by until she was standing outside the barrier to her detention, questioning her Gryffindor courage. But there was really no going back now, and so she knocked.

"Enter."

Once again the desks had been pushed back against the wall, but this time the middle of the room was dominated by two chairs facing each other. Hesitantly she sat down. She looked on in surprise as Professor Snape left his seat behind his desk to come sit across from her. He seemed uncomfortable without a barrier between them and sat with a rigid posture.

Reaching into her bag she handed him back his book. Nodding in thanks and he said, "Tell me what you learned."

"I am a Fire Elemental," she said stating the obvious.

Irritated by her straightforward answer he attempted to broach the topic another way. "Correct. Now ask the million questions I can see bouncing around in your head."

Surprised at his tactic and generosity she blurted, "How many Elementals are there?"

"There are very few left. The last recorded number was less than fifty." She looked like she was about to burst with more questions so he quickly continued. "Every year there has always been a number of Elementals born, but as time has gone on that number has steadily dwindled. Eventually they will exist no more."

"Why are they dying out, sir?"

"No one knows why," he scoffed. "It is hypothesized that it is because of the pure bloods inbreeding, but also because of magical folk marrying into muggle families. All foolish notions by idiots seeking an answer where there is none."

"What do you think?"

He stared at her a moment before responding, "As I said there is no answer."

Pushing further she said, "Excuse me Professor, but you do not seem to be the type of person to accept that there is no answer to anything. You must have some theory."

Confusion flashed across his face momentarily softening his harsh features. Hermione realized that it was possible that her professor was not used to being asked to provide his own opinion. While an intelligent man, his less than personable disposition kept most people at arm's length. She watched his confusion fade away to be replaced by irritation. "Do not make assumptions of my character."

"I apologize, sir. I was just interested in your opinion on the subject."

His paranoia faded somewhat and he quietly said, "I believe that Elemental Magic used to be a necessity for our development, but over time it has lost meaning and purpose. In result, biology has slowly filtered it out of our DNA."

Intrigued Hermione asked, "Do you think that there is Elemental Magic in everyone but that it acts as a vestigial trait in most witches and wizards?" She stood up and starting pacing as she continued to think aloud. "If that is true, that could mean that there may be a way for non-elementals to activate their Elemental Magic!"

Professor Snape stood and joined her in her pacing. "You could be on to something, Miss Granger. If it is indeed a vestigial trait then it could exist as something in every magical being, much the same as there are vestigial structures in every human such as the plica semilunaris or the caecum."

Hermione turned in excitement. "Yes! There is also the accipitofrontalis muscle! While it is a vestigial structure because its original purpose of holding the head upright is irrelevant with our current development, it has transformed to take on other purposes, like forming our facial features!" She stopped to stare at him. "What if Elementals are just underdeveloped in the natural selection process when compared to magical beings that cannot perform Elemental Magic? Maybe whatever allows Elementals to use their Elemental Magic has just developed other purposes in the rest of the magical population."

"That is an interesting theory, and deserves to be studied." He stopped pacing to observe her. For a moment he had forgotten that he was sitting in detention with his sixth year student. She showed intellect beyond her years and would make a formidable research partner. But that was not why they were here.

Hermione saw the slight changes in his expression and realized he was just as excited and intrigued by their theory as she was. The way he had studied her so intently while they bounced ideas off each other had thrown her off guard. His features had relaxed; softening away the stress lines and making him look younger. He had seemed more approachable and the transformation was astonishing. But right now they had to be teacher and student. Gesturing to the chairs, she returned to her seat.

"I asked you to come today knowing and understanding your weaknesses. Can you explain to me what they are?"

She opened her mouth to give the obvious answer of 'water', but knew that was what he expected her to say. Taking a minute to form her thoughts she answered, "My greatest weakness would be myself, sir."

"Correct. Please elaborate." His eyes warmed slightly and she guessed he was pleased with her answer, but it was hard for her to tell.

"My emotions, especially anger, seem directly tied with my abilities. If I lose control of myself I become a danger to everyone around me. It seems that anger causes me to create flames, and I run the risk of burning myself or those near me. In worst case scenarios, I could possibly kill them."

He nodded. "I am going to teach you to use your abilities, but first I will teach you about control. Have you heard about the branch of magic called Occlumency?"

"Yes sir. It is the study of protecting one's mind, specifically from the invasion of another."

"Yes, though by learning Occlumency you will gain a stronger ability to control your emotions, and that seems your biggest struggle right now."

Hermione's initial instinct was to protest, but she knew that would just further prove his point. Instead she nodded in confirmation.

His expression darkened and he narrowed his eyes at her. The change happened quickly, and she could almost see his features turning callous. "This will also help you guard against spilling my secrets because while the Headmaster seems to trust you to keep your mouth closed, I am not inclined to ensure my life to the tongue of a dramatic teenage girl." His tone was sarcastic and biting but she could sense the fear hidden beneath his statement.

He waited until she nodded in acknowledgement of his threat before he continued with her lesson. "The mind is an extremely complex organ, and even after it has been invaded through the use of Legilimency, it is not easy to obtain particular pieces of information. The invader will see swirls of memories that are not easy to grasp onto, but with skill they can pull forward memories that share a common theme. Without proper practice the invader can accidently rip apart the person's memories, erratically altering them.

The entire process is extremely painful for the person being invaded, and will become more agonizing and damaging if that person uses an active defense. That is why the skill of Occlumency is a subtle and hard magic to master.

Your defense must be slight, and unpronounced. You will need to pull selective memories and information away from the invader and tuck them away in the far reaches or your mind. While doing this you must also push forward useless memories to appease the invader. It requires deft control and a complete understanding of your mind. But in the end the invader should not even know you have deceived them."

Sitting down across from her, he said, "I will now invade your mind. I will not attempt to draw forth specific memories. This exercise is for you to understand what it feels like to have someone else in your head."

Hermione realized her hands were shaking in dread. The look on his face was decidedly neutral but she remembered Harry having had lessons on Occlumency last year had always returned broken and ill. Crossing her hands in her lap she nodded that she was ready.

" _Legilimens._ "

His eyes seemed to grow larger and blacker. She couldn't look away from his gaze. Ice seemed to slowly be forming on the edges of her mind and the cold made it hard for her to breathe. Soon his eyes were all she could see, black orbs that were slowly drawing her in. As they got bigger, she felt more and more pressure on her lungs and head. She had the chance to admire how beautiful his eyes were in a cold, hard way before he fully pushed through into her mind. And then there was nothing but pain.

It was a sharp stab deep in her head and a distinct feeling of everything being _wrong._ She could feel him like a bug in her skull crawling just out of reach. The pain and discomfort was so foreign that she started to panic.

"Don't fight it! You need to relax!"

She heard and recognized the voice, but it seemed to come from very far away and didn't feel real. Realizing that she wasn't able to see anymore she frantically tried to escape the blackness. Fear overwhelmed her and tapping into her magic she pushed against the barriers before her. There was a moment of light followed by more blackness, and cold. She felt ice on her skin and it was getting even harder to breathe. The lack of oxygen made her dizzy and she felt as if she had left her body. As she struggled for air she heard voices.

"Severus you dare to return to this circle without the information I require? I thought I made it clear…"

"…master please…"

The voices seemed to be fading in and out. Concentrating harder, Hermione found herself standing in an empty field at Voldemort's feet. He was laughing hysterically, blood and spit spraying from his mouth. As she watched in panic, he flicked his wand at her. Her body danced under the cruciatus curse and she opened her mouth to scream. Hot mingled with cold and her nerves seemed to explode from the pain of it. It was so consuming that she didn't even hear herself screaming, but when the curse ended she realized her voice had been distinctively male. Glancing down she saw black robes, and long pale fingers. Before she could react a boot slammed into her side and she heard a loud 'crack' as one of her ribs snapped. Hesitantly she crawled towards Voldemort. As she reached the hem of his robe, she kissed it uttering, "…master please…"

Light engulfed her and she felt herself being thrown into a hard, solid object. Opening her eyes, she found she was staring at the ceiling of her Defense Class. Turning to the side she threw up, the memory of the pain slowly fading away. Blood flowed freely from her nose, and curling into a ball she started crying. Coldness wracked her limbs, and glancing down she saw her skin was blue.  
Rolling over she spied her professor across the room. He was leaning heavily against the far wall panting. Dark, thick blood poured from his nose and dripped onto the floor at his feet. He was staring at his hands shock. She realized he looked terrified, and that he shook slightly. Taking a moment to compose himself he let his face fall into his hands. When he looked up in search of her, she saw that he had carefully gained control of his emotions. Slowly approaching her, he sat down on the floor next to her. Warmth spread through her as he cast a hot air charm on her robes.

They sat in silence, neither knew what to say. Hermione finally blurted, "You're an Elemental."

He stared at her a moment bewildered by her outburst, but nodded in confirmation. "Ice is my specialty."

She started laughing hysterically at the whole situation. Never could she have imagined herself sitting on the floor with him after having experienced a horrifying memory of the torture he had endured at the hands of Voldemort. He furrowed his brows at her as she continued to laugh.

"Miss Granger-"

"Hermione. Call me Hermione."

He scowled at her. "I hardly think that appropriate. You are my student and I am your teacher."

"Oh shut up. After tonight I think etiquette has gone out the window. We have surpassed the relationship of student and teacher." The words left her mouth before she could think them through. She was surprised at her frankness but even more shocked when he didn't chastise her, but instead gave a low chuckle.

"Sir, was that a normal experience when practicing Occlumency?"

"No. When you pushed back at my intrusion instead of remaining calm like you were supposed to, I believe that our Elemental Magic reacted poorly with one another." He gave her a suspicious look. "It would also seem you have a natural affinity as a Legilimens." Reaching over he helped her up.

She winced from the echoes of the pain she had experienced in his memory. "Sir, was it normal for me to have felt everything as it was happening?"

He looked at her in alarm. "You experienced the torture in the memory?"

She nodded, closing her eyes against the pounding in her head. She missed the anxiety written across his face.

"Follow me."

He lead her through his office and into his fireplace where they flooed into his private rooms. Showing her to a seat, he left her alone.

The pounding in her head was getting worse and while the pain from the memory had faded, her nerves still twitched uncomfortably. A vile was pressed into her hand. "Drink," he commanded. She obeyed and tasted the bitterness of a headache solution, and the pounding receded to a dull throb. Opening her eyes she found her professor casting diagnostic spells over her. After a couple of minutes he sighed in relief, and handed her a glass with a couple swallows of fire whiskey.

"I have no idea how or why you were able to experience my memories first hand. There is no record of that happening throughout history. I checked your vitals and it seems that you are not suffering from any after effects of the cruciatus curse. My guess would be that while your mind reacted to the curse, it was experienced through my body, and thus did not directly affect anything but your conscious."

Feeling completely drained, Hermione leaned further back into her chair and closed her eyes. A shadow passed over her vision and she was startled to discover her professor leaning over her. He was glaring intently at her, his mask carefully in place. She tried to back up but was stuck against the barrier of the chair.

"Let me make one point very, very clear," he said carefully. She could feel just how dangerous he could be and was instantly reminded of a cat and mouse scenario. "If you share any information of what you have seen tonight or what you will inevitably experience in future lessons with anyone, I will personally remove your tongue with a very concentrated acid I will invent just for that purpose. The outcome of this war depends on my ability to continue to fool the Dark Lord. Even whispers of my true loyalties will result in my death and leave us blinded." He ground his teeth and she could see fear in his eyes. His grip on the arms of her chair was so tight she could see the hard muscles of his forearms and hear the wood cracking beneath his grasp. "I have not scarified this much to have everything we've accomplished all be in vain because an arrogant Gryffindor couldn't keep her mouth closed." Hermione was scared to notice ice forming where his hands clutched the chair.

"I understand sir," she whispered.

He let go and leaned back. "You should also tell no one about your Elemental Magic. While it is not widely known about in the younger generations, those who do possess its knowledge believe it to be a branch of Dark Magic. All Slytherin children are taught of it from an early age, and the last thing we want is the Dark Lord knowing of your extra powers."

"Is that why it is not taught at Hogwarts? Because of superstition?"

"Do not take superstition lightly. It's a powerful source of control over the population." She nodded. "Now come Miss G-"

"It's Hermione."

 _"Miss Granger,_ it has been a long night and you need to rest."

She followed him through the halls of the school, once again empty and silent. He left her without a word at the entrance to her rooms and crawling into bed she tried to calm her racing mind. The night had left her with many unanswered questions, especially in regards to her professor. He seemed to hate her one moment and then forget she was his student the next. But she had to admit that the times he forgot his place in regards to her, he showed that he was an impressive intellectual. His knowledge seemed unending, and bouncing ideas and theories off of him had seemed natural to her. Perhaps over the next week she could attempt to convince him she was worth the effort he was putting forth.

When she had unintentionally entered his mind she felt the intensity of his loneliness and hadn't realized he was suffering so profoundly from his isolation. But after the memory she experienced, she couldn't blame him for pushing everyone out of his life. It would have to be hard enough to have to deceive the Dark Lord without having to worry about other aspects in his life. Having that amount of stress had to be devastating to his heath. She understood why he chose to put no friends or loved ones at risk. Or he could be isolated because he was a sarcastic bastard that no one really wanted to receive a verbal thrashing from by trying to be his friend. Hermione found herself wondering if he had ever had a deep connection with someone or been in love…and stopped her thought process right there. This was SNAPE she was thinking about, not some lost puppy. If he even knew half the thoughts running through her head right now, he'd hex her into next week. Giggling, she rolled over and quickly fell asleep.

Over the next couple day's life went on without much complication. She served her detentions and learned more and more about Occlumency. Each night the process got easier and there wasn't a repeat of the disaster that happened the first time, though Professor Snape now always kept his defenses up and made sure to not underestimate her Legilimency skills.

She slowly tried to chip away his rough exterior and convince him to relax. She wasn't successful in her endeavor and as the week went on his complexion became splotchy and harrowed. His eyes were becoming haunted and she wondered if he ever slept. Most nights she observed him standing out by the lake, completely static. The few times he had been absent from the water she knew he'd been summoned to Voldemort. On those nights she always watched for him to return home, and he always did. Judging by his gait, she could discern the level of his injuries. No matter the pain he always made it back inside whether through strength or pride she didn't know. She longed to help him but knew he'd hate her for her pity and so she watched from afar.

The boys questioned her daily on her distance from them, but she always denied anything was wrong. Harry watched her constantly, and she didn't understand why until she stopped to look in a mirror one morning. Her eyes were sunken and held the same hallowed look as Professor Snape's. She realized that she hadn't really slept much in the past week and that it had taken a toll on her health.

Harry's new focus seemed to be on Malfoy. He was convinced that Draco was a Death Eater out to murder half of the school. When she asked him why he thought that, his only argument was that his minions, Crabbe and Goyle, had been staring at them lately. She had noticed the staring, but the two Slytherins were dumb as rocks. She told her boys that she didn't think they could even breathe without Malfoy telling them how to first, and while they laughed she could see that Harry remained unconvinced. When he became defensive on the topic, she let it go and gave him one more thing to take his mind off his murdered godfather.

Today was her last detention and while they had made progress, there was still a long way to go. Unfortunately, they hadn't discussed the possibility of future lessons and she knew she would have to broach the topic tonight. Considering her options she almost missed the small piece of parchment that appeared in her lap.

The familiar handwriting said:

" _Detention cancelled. Will be postponed until tomorrow."_

Concerned she glanced up at the teachers table to find him looking just as bored and uninterested as he always did.

The day passed quickly and that night Hermione decided to go down to her secret hide away to study. All the late nights had put her slightly behind on her homework and she needed some peace and quiet to finish it. Hours later she realized that it was just passing curfew. Leaving quickly she missed the malicious figure watching her from the hallway shadows.

She wasn't aware she was being followed until roped wrapped themselves around her wrists and ankles. Falling to the ground with a crash, she felt her nose crack under her weight. Blood gushed down the side of her face as she struggled to turn over. As she rightened herself, a heavy textbook was smashed across her face, momentarily dazing her. The world spun around and she felt fabric being shoved deep into her mouth and throat.

Trying to scream, the sound was muffled as the dirty cloth clung to her tongue. She felt herself being dragged deeper into the dungeons and she struggled to see her attacker. They stopped moving and her attacker slammed her head backwards into the wall behind her. Everything went black for a while and when she came to she discovered the figure standing over her was that of Vincent Crabbe. His features were stretched into one of glee, and he slowly reached down to stroke her cheek.

"I've been watching you, Hermione. I've seen the way you've been teasing me, with your tight skirts and long legs. I've heard you begging me for this in my dreams." His eyes were crazed and he slowly licked his lips as he looked her up and down.

She screamed as loud as she could against the fabric in her mouth. Terror like nothing she ever knew filled her as he slowly began stroking her thigh.

"Keep making that sound, baby. I love it when you scream."

Eyes wide, tears began to slowly leak down her face. Numb with shock, she could not comprehend the situation she was in. Scooting away her back hit the wall behind her. Crabbe stood and started to slowly undo his pants whispering, "They will be so proud of me. Fucking the brains out of the mudblood. The Dark Lord will surely give me a spot in the inner circle."

His grin widened as he looked at her horrified face and then he was on her. His weight crushed her lungs, and she struggled to breathe through her nose. Pushing up her shirt he fondled her breasts with one hand and started to strangle her with the other. Leaning down he sunk his teeth into the tender flesh of her shoulder and she shrieked until she thought her vocal cords would tear. Blood and tears ran down the side of her face and her nose was filled with the stench of him. A heat started in the back of her brain, and she felt it start to expand to her limbs.

Crabbe leaned close to her ear, expression full of desire and insanity as he said, "I'm going to make you mine."

Hermione sobbed as everything erupted into fire and blackness. From a great distance she thought she heard a deep, soft voice calling her home.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello everyone! I apologize about the long wait on this chapter! I hit a little bit of a road block with it, and I found it harder to complete. It's not quite how I expected it to turn out, but I believe this story is headed in a good direction. Please let me know what you think! And thank you for reading!**

* * *

Everything around Hermione exploded into heat and flame, and then just as quickly came darkness.

She came to slowly, light creeping beneath her lids, and sound filtering into her ears. There were moments where everything was light and sound, quickly followed by her succumbing back into the black abyss.

But when she truly woke it was with a gasp as her eyes took in her surroundings. She was lying in a comfortable bed. Everything around her was white: the walls, the furniture, even her clothes. Sun shone through the window, warming her and the small room. She did not recognize where she was but judging by the stark feel of the place, it had to be a private room in the hospital wing.

She wasn't sure how she ended up there or what had happened to her, but she felt that a significant amount of time had passed. Cautiously she sat up. Her body was very sensitive. She could feel aches deep in her muscles, and moving made her whole form burn with exertion. Every inch of her skin felt raw and sensitive and looking down, she found it was pink and completely unblemished. Bandages were wrapped around her hands, and it felt like some kind of gooey substance was coating her fingers.

"Welcome back Miss Granger."

She yelped in surprise. Standing at the foot of her bed stood the headmaster. He looked unusually solemn in dark grey robes, though he had countered it with a sparkly, pink hat. He was twinkling at her with a wide grin.

'Welcome back?' she wondered, 'Where have I gone?' Opening her mouth she attempted to speak but found her throat sore and swollen. Dumbledore gestured at the table besides her bed, and turning she discovered a full glass of water. Seeing it she realized she was parched. She swallowed it quickly and cleared her throat. "How long have I been here, sir?"

His eyes stopped twinkling and his smile faded. The grave expression on his face disturbed her greatly. "Three weeks, my dear."

Her jaw slackening in surprise, she uttered, "WHAT!?"

With a neutral expression he asked, "So you don't remember anything?"

She shook her head still in shock.

"That may be for the best, Miss Granger. There are some things in this world that are better left forgotten."

"But-"

"Your training with Severus will proceed. He will be along shortly to discuss the details with you." He paused studying her intently. "You are a huge asset to the war Hermione. Your knowledge of all things muggle will give you an edge over any Death Eater you may encounter. Do not forget that even the simplest of things can be the most valuable." He patted the foot of her bed gently. "I'm relieved we did not lose you." He started to twinkled again. "Now, I must take my leave. Minerva has discovered a new sweet she swears by. It's called a Fireball and it sounds intriguing."

Hermione, still numb with shock, watched as the old man continued to ramble to himself, before wandering off.

She stared at the spot Dumbledore had been standing in and attempted to remember what exactly had happened to put her unconscious in the hospital wing for three weeks…but everything was black. It was as if a large chunk of her memories were missing and it was hard for her to comprehend that almost an entire month had passed. The last thing she remembered vividly was dinner, and having her detention with Professor Snape cancelled.

Dumbledore had said that her lessons with the dark professor were to continue which was exciting, but she didn't know how she was going to keep that from Harry and Ron. Speaking of which, if she had been unconscious for three weeks, where were her boys? She was surprised they weren't camped out here.

Familiar footsteps rang out across the Hospital Wing and she could picture his black coat billowing out behind him.

"Severus?" she heard Madame Pompfrey ask. Judging by the clarity of their voices, they were just down the hall from her room.

"Good afternoon Poppy. I'm here to see Miss Granger."

"What? The poor girl is not awake yet! And if she is, she does not need to be bothered! My patient has had a very rough couple of weeks, as you very well know. You have been busy brewing all of her potions!"

"I promise you Poppy, she is probably bursting at the seams wondering how much homework she will have to make up." He sounded irritated. Hermione could sense the sneer on his face and the roll of his eyes.

"Don't make jokes, Severus. It doesn't suit you. That poor girl has been through quite a dramatic ordeal."

"I assure you Poppy that was not a joke."

Their footsteps grew closer and Madame Pompfrey softly knocked on the door before opening it.

Hermione's eyes locked on her professor's black ones, and she felt her heart speed up. He looked like hell. His hair hung in great greasy strands; there were shadows under his eyes that seemed to jump out of his pale skin, and judging by the prominence of his cheek bones he had lost more weight. His eyes narrowed as she continued to start at him, mesmerized by the deterioration of his appearance.

Poppy bustled around Hermione, humming to herself as she cast diagnostic spells. "You have made quite an improvement, Miss Granger. We are very happy to have you back."

"Madame Pompfrey, what exactly happened to me?" she asked, fed up with the ambiguity everyone was feeding her.

Professor Snape's eyes widened slightly with astonishment and Madame Pompfrey dropped her wand in shock.

"You don't remember? My poor, dear girl. It was…devastating—." She babbled as tears welled in her eyes.

"Poppy, please leave us. I need to speak with Miss Granger alone." His eyes had not left hers and they were still widened in surprise. The intensity of his stare scared her, and she could not look away. Much to her bewilderment Madame Pompfrey nodded and left the room without a word.

He slowly sat down next to her bed, and began to remove the bandages from her hands. The silence in the room was deafening and her hands shook from the fear of not knowing what had happened in the last 3 weeks. The last bandage fell free, and he looked at her expectantly. Looking down at her hands, Hermione choked in revulsion at what she saw. Her hands were a mess of bulbous blisters and sores with the visible skin a patchy jumble of pink scarring. Her fingers were swollen beyond recognition and completely unusable. She looked up at her professor, terror written across her face. He gently grasped each hand and rubbed a thick paste all over her damaged skin. Tears spilled over her eyes as she realized she couldn't feel the warmth of his hands holding her own.

"Tell me the last thing you remember." His voice was soft and gentle as he continued to treat her hands.

"I-I remember dinner, and then everything after that is blank."

"What would you have done on a normal night?"

"I would have finished my homework and studied."

"Where?"

She paused the panic she felt was making it hard for her to think. "I have a secret room that I go to in the dungeons. It's quiet."

"And you do not remember going there?"

She attempted to push back her fear and really concentrate as she tried to sort through the darkness clouding her mind. _Brown eyes wide, betraying excitement and desire…and flame all around._ The images danced before her eyes, but they slipped back into the darkness before she could understand them. Sweat poured down her face and blood ran freely from her nose as she pushed back again the void stopping her from remembering.

"Do not push yourself so hard. You are suffering from trauma induced amnesia." He handed her a cloth to wipe the blood from her nose. He was reserved and decidedly neutral, but his actions were gentler than typical Snape behavior. He seemed nervous, and his accommodating demeanor made her realize that whatever had happened to her had been bad. Really bad. Bad enough to make the sarcastic git of the dungeons treat her gentleness and kindness.

He hesitated slightly before saying, "With your permission I'd like to unlock your memories of that night for you." Sneering slightly to himself he continued, "While everyone around here seems to think it would be better for you to not remember, it is more harmful to pretend…certain events did not happen. But if you would like to live in the safety of ignorance no one would blame you."

She knew this was a test. Embrace the harsh realities of adult understanding or continue on in her blissfully exempt life? Whatever had happened three weeks ago must have been horrible for everyone to be treating her this way, and she knew herself well enough to know she couldn't settle for never knowing.

"I want to know, sir."

He nodded and leaning closer, wordlessly penetrated her mind. She fell once again into the black, icy depths of his eyes, but this time she felt no semblance of panic. There was plenty of fear and anticipation but no distress at the invasion of her privacy. He seemed to radiate calmness into her mind, and it felt like a cool breeze in her fevered brain.

Memories flipped before her faster than she could grasp, and she felt her professor's experience and power. Finding what he was searching for, he gently tugged a memory forward.

Hermione found herself once again standing up and leaving the Great Hall. She could feel her hesitation before she strode down into the dungeons and to her solitude to work. Hours flew by as she finished up her essays and reading assignments. Standing up she stretched, cracking her back. Opening the door she stepped back out into the dungeons and into a grey mist, where everything dissolved. She found herself once again staring at Professor Snape in the Hospital Wing, and he looked furious.

"Sir, what just happened? Is that the amnesia affecting my memories?"

Professor Snape ground his teeth in irritation. "Damn him!" he finally shouted.

His reaction scared her and she chose to stay silent as he paced around the room. After a long time he sat down again and turned to her.

"Miss Granger, the mist you saw means that your memories have been tampered with. Most likely Albus used _Obliviate_ on you."

Her jaw dropped. "Is there any way to recover them?"

"Only he can reverse the spell."

"But-t…"

He stopped his pacing to stare at her. His eyes flashed with intensity and she could see an idea forming in his mind. "If you were to view the events from that night from another perspective, it might be able to jar your mind enough to bring forth your own representation of that night."

"Who else was there?"

He sighed, "I was."

"Oh." She stared at him quizzically.

He sat back down next to her and made eye contact. "You know what to do."

She grasped her wand tightly and whispered, " _Legilimens._ "

Everything grew dark. Opening her eyes, she began to experience everything that had occurred that night as Professor Snape had.

 _Professor Snape was seated at his office grading papers. She could feel the worn wood beneath his hands, and smirked to herself as she realized that his chair was much more comfortable than the ones provided for guest, it seemed he did NOT enjoy company._

 _He sighed in frustration as he marked another essay with a failing grade. Only a handful of students were intelligent enough to earn a decent grade in his class, and the apathy of his students was a constant source of aggravation for him._

 _Giving up, he tucked the essays into his desk and turned to leave. Something was bothering him this evening, but he couldn't place the source of his anxiety. His body didn't ache more than the usual amount, and while he had cancelled his detention with Granger in the anticipation of an early summons, his arm had not burned yet tonight. It should have been one of his few free nights he could relax, but the uneasiness wouldn't leave him alone._

 _Locking his office behind him, he headed towards his private rooms. There was a bottle of Fire Whiskey with his name on it tonight, but halfway there he stopped and sniffed the air. It smelled of smoke. Confusion clouded his mind briefly before he took off running. Sprinting deeper into the dungeons he found the source. Vomit rose up in his throat but he barely felt the acidic liquid over the revulsion and shock at the sight before him._

 _The hallway billowed smoke and the air stank of cooked meat. Flames clung to the walls and floor, seemingly burning with no fuel. In the middle of the inferno were two figures. They seemed to be in a romantic embrace on the ground, but on closer inspection, he realized that that was not the case._

 _The figures were not recognizable. The larger one had to have been male, but beyond his size he had no recognizable features. His flesh had been completely stripped by the flames, exposing bone and muscles. The skin of his head had burned away leaving a blackened skull behind. His eyes were jelly, melted and burned onto the scorched black flesh. It was obvious that he was dead, burned alive by the flames._

 _The smaller figure was pinned underneath the male, and was weakly struggling to push herself free. Hermione realized with a heavy heart that she had to be looking at herself._

 _Her hair had acted as tinder and was consumed quickly by the flames. Her skin had burned off in great patches, and what was left was peeling away and turning into ash. Every item of clothing had seemed to have melted and coated her skin. All that was left of her was just a mess of blood, ash, and boiling liquid. The only thing still untouched by the heat were her eyes, which were clouded with pain and horror._

 _She could feel Professor Snape's disgust and panic at the situation. His reaction was extreme and she was surprised to feel tears on his cheeks. He approached her cautiously._

 _At the sound of his steps, Hermione watched herself shift towards him. She was horrified to see recognition in her eyes. Her professor was sick with the knowledge that she was conscious and aware of the pain and destruction surrounding her. He pulled off his cloak and used it to remove the corpse from on top of her, but it had burned deeply into her flesh. The scene was gruesome and she could sense how horrified Professor Snape was. The girl lying at his feet was seemingly gone, nothing but pain and ash. She watched him attempt to put out the flames in the hallway, but the water boiled away before it could reach the source of the heat._

 _Gently he cupped her face and turned it towards him. Smoothly he pushed into her mind._

 _Hermione thought the inferno in the hallway was awful, what she found in her own mind was an incomprehensible hell._

 _Her mind was burning. The heat was so unbearable, that she could actually hear her professor screaming from it. But the worst part was the almost inaudible sound of despair that she knew had to be herself begging to die._

 _She felt Professor Snape bite down on his tongue to stop himself from his yelling. Pushing everything away he focused on the bundle of magic hidden in his mind. He pulled it forward and into the inferno. A cold started to grow, extinguishing the flames. The chill seeped into their surrounding until the floor and wall were covered by a thin film of ice. He kept pushing until he was shivering from it, and every flame was gone. Pulling back he observed his surroundings._

 _What was left of Hermione lay still. Eyes clouded, staring straight ahead, a small human feature placed in a charred, chunk of flesh. He reached for her neck to feel for a pulse. Her skin was hard, and leathery. It broke away to ash at his touch._

 _The horrible realization that she was dead, consumed by her own magic, was too much for Professor Snape to accept. He cast healing spells and diagnostic charms at her, but they had no effect. As his mind grew crazed with his unacceptance, he resorted to muggle methods and attempted CPR. Pushing oxygen into her air way, he started pumping her chest._

 _Logically, Hermione knew that there was no way her heart wasn't cinders in her chest. Watching her professor pounding on her chest, trying everything in his power to revive her, made her ache with sadness._

 _After what seemed like a very long time he stopped. "We need you in this war, Hermione. Your intellect could make the difference between failure and success." He looked at her scorched body and lost control. Pounding his fists onto her chest, he started to yell. "COME BACK! COME BACK!" With one final slam of his hands he stopped and dropped his head in his hands, only to be startled by a soft sigh. She watched herself take a shuttering gasp. Quickly he jumped up and summoned his Patronus. She was surprised to see it was a doe, which seemed very uncharacteristic of him. He lifted her into his arms and began to sprint in the direction of the Hospital Wing._

 _"Severus? What happened?"_

The memory slowly faded _._

Back in present time, Professor Snape was staring down at his hands, and she realized that he was probably uncomfortable with what she had just witnessed.

"I'm sure this leaves you with more questions than answers. I was able to get you up to the Hospital Wing, where we stabilized you. Poppy had to completely regrow your skin… and a couple of your organs."

She let his voice break through the silence of the room and in her mind. She knew she was in shock at the entirety of the situation.

"Sir?" she interrupted. He looked up at her with caution. She laughed to herself as she realized that he looked ready to bolt. "Thank you for saving my life. What you did was incredible courageous."

He looked at her awkwardly, "You're welcome Miss Granger."

"I understand what I saw in your memory, but what exactly happened before you showed up?"

"Unfortunately, I do not know. All I can tell you is that there was one other person down in that dungeon with you. But sadly, Mr. Crabbe is no longer with the living."

She felt herself go cold with dismay. "I killed him?"

He looked confused by the horrified expression on her face. "Yes."

Tears streamed down her face. "But…"

"Miss Granger, I promise you that while I do not know the reason for Mr. Crabbe's death…I can assure you that he did not corner you in the dungeons with good intentions. It is likely that he very much deserved to die."

"How can you say that? No one deserves to have such an absolute fate?"

He looked annoyed. "Would you give the Dark Lord such a choice?"

"No! But he is responsible for countless murders!"

"Mr. Crabbe has been raping muggles since he was 12! Trust me when I say this world is a much better place without him here!" Anger made his tongue sharp, and she felt slightly comforted that he was not mollycoddling her anymore.

"Why haven't you done anything about it? How could you allow someone like… _that_ to continue to attend Hogwarts?"

She felt the temperature in the room drop, and realized she had crossed a line… Her professor stood up to tower over her and very quietly said, "You assume I have a choice, Miss Granger." He turned to leave. "We will continue our lessons until you have gained complete control over your powers. We would not want to have any more _accidents_ would we?" he said sneering at her in distaste. "Your memories will most likely slowly come back to you over the course of the next few weeks. Our lessons will begin again during the winter break. Enjoy your time off while you can." Without glancing back, he swept from the room, leaving behind an icy chill and a heavy heart.

* * *

Hermione spent the next week trying to cope with the knowledge that she had killed someone and that she had technically died. Her life had flipped upside down in a matter of one night, and as much as she was trying to move on, she was continuously haunted by nightmares. Every night was filled with vivid flashes of images. But they were so disconnected and seemingly random that she had a hard time placing them into a time frame, or even believing they were real at all. Most of the time she woke up in the middle of the night terrified, and feeling like she was going to start burning again. She requested that Madame Pompfrey kept her room cold because any type of heat gave her a panic attack.

While most of her dreams were incoherent, there was one memory that was clearer than the rest. It occurred every night and it always left her confused.

It was always the same. She was asleep in a drugged state. She was aware of her surroundings but they had kept her immobile to stop her from damaging her brand new skin. She knew it was late, and she tried to drift off to sleep but the pain potion had just started to wear off and everything hurt. She was brought back to her surrounding by the sound of footsteps. She hoped it was Madam Pompfrey about to give her more medicine to take away the pain. But the footsteps sounded wrong, lighter and stealthier.

They stopped next to her bed and she heard the soft sound of weeping. She wished that she could turn and open her eyes to see who was crying at her bedside, but her body always refused to move.

The quiet sobbing lasted for a while until the person started whispering to her. "Hermione, I don't know what I'm doing here…" This part of the dream was always fuzzy, like her memory had been tampered with. "…just a mudblood…scared…the Dark Lord's ideals are…bullshit…too late…Crabbe…"

It always ended with him whispering "I'm sorry" before quietly retreating. Her dumbfounded shock was always the same when she realized that the person speaking to her was Draco Malfoy.

If this dream was a true event…that could mean that maybe they could recruit a new ally. But the words Draco had spoken were never clear. And the time he had visited her was uncertain, it could have just been remorse at the loss of his friend, although his words seemed honest, scared, and sad. Hermione decided she would have to wait and see how he behaved when she was allowed to go back to classes.

As the days passed the dreams became more recognizable instead of just feelings and sounds. Flame climbing the walls, Crabbe screaming until his vocal chords melted away, Dumbledore's magic running through her, revitalizing her dying body, Professor Snape lain out in a bed next to her. Each night the dreams grew more feverish, and it was harder for her to establish what was real and what was just a nightmare. Even while awake she lived inside her head trying to capture the three weeks lost to her. She wondered if this was a side effect to having her memory erased.

She took to journaling her hallucinations to try and sort the chaos in her mind. It helped slightly but still she was fixated on the dream of Draco. As the days wore on, she became convinced that he had visited her one night.

Memories of Crabbe had started to come back to her, and she found that she constantly woke up screaming. Madame Pompfrey attempted to give her Dreamless Sleep but she refused knowing how addictive it was. She settled with having sleepless nights as she tried to sort through the events lost in her head.

She constantly felt the burn of tears in her throat and sometimes could still hear Crabbe's tortured screams. She knew enough about muggle psychology to know she was most likely suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, but for some unknown reason the wizarding world did not actively embrace the problems of the mind, and had no solution for her.

At first she refused to ask for help, but as her symptoms grew worse she knew she needed something. The only person she knew that might help would be her surly professor. He had probably seen a number of horrific things that had to have mentally and emotionally scarred him. She knew he used Occlumency to push away most of his emotions, but it couldn't solve all his issues. As awkward as it would be to ask him for help with such a sensitive matter…she thought that it was possible he had started to see her as something beyond the 'Gryffindor Princess'. Judging by her dreams, he either cared for her slightly in a weird way or he felt responsible for her predicament. Either way he might be inclined to help her put her mind back together. At least that's what she kept telling herself. In reality she was curious to see how that night had changed their relationship.

Watching his memories of that night had stunned her. By using Legilimency to view his memory, she was able to feel his emotions associated with the incident. His shock had been palpable, and he had felt fear and concern at her expense…which was more than she had ever considered possible. Professor Snape seemed to be tearing apart everything she thought she knew of him.

After a week, her memories of that night grew even more frequent. She remembered the feel of his arms around her as he carried her to the Hospital Wing, he had been using his Elemental Magic to try and drop her core temperature, and it had exhausted him. She remembered how he had gently placed her on the hospital bed before passing out from exertion. Poppy's shocked face was burned into her mind. The thing she remembered most about that night was the pain, it made everything else fuzzy, and she had a few memories here and there. Most of them were of waking up in the middle of the night to always find Professor Snape by her bedside. Any time she awoke, she could always feel his cold gaze on her. He always quickly administered a pain and sleep potion that caused her to instantly lose consciousness.

She thought that knowing Professor Snape had watched her while she slept for weeks on end would make her uncomfortable…but instead the idea comforted her, and each night she felt on edge as she slept, without his guarding presence. She realized that Draco must have paid her a visit after Snape had stopped watching over her, or maybe he had just hidden himself? Lost in her thoughts she missed the knocked on her door. It slowly opened to reveal nothing, and then seemed to close again on its own. With a flourish, her boys whipped off Harry's invisibility cloak to reveal themselves.

At the sight of caution and concern on their faces, she burst into tears.

"Shhh- 'Mione. It's alright." They both were awkwardly hugging her, as they tried to calm her down.

After a couple minutes she stopped. "Where have you been? I have been awake for the last week!"

"We just found out today! They haven't allowed visitors and every time we tried to sneak down here with the cloak, the greasy git has been waiting for us here. I swear he can see through the cloak, we have had way too many close calls." There was a long pause. "Hermione, what happened? You didn't come back to the common room one night, and we used the Marauder's Map to find you… But it said you were in the dungeons with Snape. But- but then your marker on the Map faded away! We thought you were dead!" Harry paused as his voice grew thick.

Ron glanced at him with concern and then continued. "We thought Snape had killed you! We were about to go find you when you reappeared on the Map. But then your dot started moving quickly to the Hospital Wing. We left to go meet you but Dumbledore intercepted us halfway there and he sent us back to the common room."

They shared another glance. "Hermione, he was so angry. I've never seen him look so emotional. We returned to our rooms and then the next morning they announced that there had been an accident… and that Crabbe was dead…. And you- you were in a coma." Harry's face was tight and pale as he looked at her. "We thought you were dead. We wouldn't leave Professor McGonagall alone until she gave us more details. What happened? Was it Voldemort?" His eyes darkened dangerously, "Or did Snape finally show his true loyalties?"

"I don't know what happened. My memory has been erased because Dumbledore thought my memories of that night were too horrific to remember," she said bitterly. "But to the best of my knowledge, I did die that night. Professor Snape was the one that saved my life."

Both the boys started at her in disbelief. Harry looked like he was about to protest so she quickly interrupted him. "Stop. Both of you. Please listen. Yes, Professor Snape is a mean bastard, but he deserves more credit than that. He shared with me what happened." Both boys were staring at her intensely. "It is highly likely that Crabbe attacked me and dragged me down into the dungeons with the intent of raping me." The boy's rage rang around the room. "HUSH! No one except Dumbledore knows for sure what happened next but Professor Snape found both of us burning alive. Crabbe was already dead, and I was almost. I think I did die for a couple of minutes there, but he resuscitated me, and used all his magical energy stabilizing and bringing me to the Hospital Wing. He-he saved my life."

The silence was thick in the room as the boys continued to stare at her trying to process the information she had given them.

Finally Harry exploded, "How do you know for sure he saved you? He could have just said that! He probably caused the whole thing!"

"I know it's true because she showed me the memory of that night."

Harry's eyes narrowed at her, and she knew that she would not be able to change his mind about Professor Snape. "He could have altered the memory! Why would he save your life when he's working for Voldemort?"

"Harry think! I know he didn't alter the memory. Why can't you accept that?"

Magic seemed to be flowing off of Harry in great waves. "BECAUSE HE'S EVIL! HE'S THE REASON SIRIUS IS DEAD! HE IS THE REASON MY ONLY FAMILY WAS MURDERED!"

Hermione felt tears on her face again as she shook her head at him. "No Harry. He isn't the reason Sirius is dead. You are." She knew as she said those words that Harry would never forgive her. She could actually feel the severing of their friendship.

He looked at her, shock making his face even paler. She watched as rage and hatred won out over logic. His eyes turned distant and unfocused as he stared at her. Without saying a word he turned and left, slamming the door behind him.

Hermione turned to Ron, who looked just as confused as Harry. He shook his head at her and followed Harry out.

Laying back down she sobbed, hating her honesty, but knowing that in the end Harry would understand what her purpose had been. It was time for her boys to become men if they were going to win this war. She just hoped they didn't hate her in the process. Closing her eyes she drifted into an exhausted sleep.

* * *

She awoke in the middle of the night to the sounds of herself screaming. Her dreams had been full of Crabbe. She could feel the rough cloth he had shoved in her mouth, his hands rubbing her thighs working their way up. She felt the absolute terror as she looked into his face and knew with certainty by his crazed expression that he wasn't just going to hurt her, but take every bit of dignity she had… And then he had erupted into a ball of flame, and all her terror turned to pain. So much pain that she screamed from the intensity of it.

Sweating she sat up and decided she needed to leave her bed. Physically she felt fine except for her bandaged hands, which occasionally throbbed as they continued to heal. Emotionally she was a broken mess.

Looking out her window she found who she was looking for. He was always there, standing beneath the moonlight, staring out at the still lake. She didn't know what he was always seeking out there, but as she hit a new low she realized that he might be the only person that could truly help her. Sliding into her slippers she snuck from her room, and headed towards the frozen grounds. She refused to think twice about what she was doing because she knew if she really comprehended what she was looking for in Professor Snape, she would run back into her bed to hide.

Taking a calming breath, she opened the Great Hall doors and approached her Professor's imposing figure.


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you everyone for the kind reviews! This chapter was a joy and a pain to write. I tend to get way too overly invested with my characters. Please let me know what you think! And as always keep reading! :)**

* * *

Everything glowed with an ethereal light. The moon, while not full, was unimpeded by clouds, and lit up the grounds.

Severus stood at the shore of the lake. It was his favorite place, but only at this time of night. Once is passed 1 am, everything changed outside. The creatures went home, and everything became unnaturally still. It was almost surreal to him, like he had stumbled on to a hidden secret of the world, where everything stopped to let you wonder at its infinite beauty.

It was the only place he found peace anymore, and while he wished it was in a more private setting, he could not argue against the snapshot of perfection before him. This stillness was the only place he could find any calm within his life, and standing at the lake's edge he let go of all the tension he had built up in the previous weeks.

The lake before him was completely static and he could see himself reflected in the dark surface. The moon's light did nothing to promote his features, but instead seemed to highlight the deterioration left from the constant stress he endured. While he had never been an attractive man, his apathy towards his appearance was becoming more and more abundant.

His hair, while always clean, contained a constant state of greasiness he blamed on genes and the potion fumes he was exposed to daily. There was probably a solution but he found he didn't care enough to research it. He had always been skinny, but lately he had trouble keeping any of his food down, most likely due to a couple of untreated ulcers. The weight loss caused his bones to jut out of his skin in sickening clarity. His complexion was bordering on yellow, and he constantly looked like he was about to vomit, which in his defense, most of the time he _was_.

As he judged his reflection, the issues were too many to count: hair, complexion, teeth, and build, not to mention the deepening bags under his eye… He looked like a first year could beat him with a simple disarming spell. If he was going to survive the war, or at the very least _this year,_ he was going to have to make some personal improvements.

He was just finding it extremely difficult to cope with everything that was expected of him. What Albus expected of him….

Shaking his head, he cleared his thoughts, now was not the time to focus on _**that**_. He came out here looking for answers in regards to the Granger girl.

Everything she did, every thought she had was such a perfect epitome of the Gryffindor House, that he did not know how to handle her. Every emotion she experienced was written across her face, and that openness disturbed him.

From an early age, he was taught that showing emotions was the equivalent of showing weakness. His father had been an angry, bitter man that resorted to drinking and beating his wife and son to find any amount of happiness. His mother had been cold and aloof. The only times he remembered her speaking above a whisper were the times she was crying on the floor as his father screamed at her. The only sign of love and affection came late in the night when she would sneak into his room, thinking him asleep, to stroke his hair and sing soft songs to him. He cherished those moments, but as he grew older, they lessened in frequency.

Even with years of reflection, he found that he could not logically understand his mother, or the deep affection he had held for her. He knew she came from a rich pure blood line, but in his teens he had discovered that her family had disowned her when she had married his father, and ultimately had disowned him as well. Any support or love he might have found in the pure blood world was completely destroyed the moment his mother had gotten herself knocked up by a muggle, and decided to keep the halfblooded abomination.

He knew next to nothing about his parents love affair, but he was almost certain that it was chalked up to his father feeding his mother enough alcohol to take advantage of her inebriated state. What he had not counted on was that she would end up pregnant and homeless. Severus still did not understand what caused his father to marry his mother, it was the first and last honorable thing he ever did.

Growing up in a loveless house caused a slew of psychological problems for him and it took years for him to come to terms with the fact that sometimes life does not have something better waiting for you, and that sometimes you existed simply to eat, sleep, fuck, and die.

There were certain moments in his life that he could point back to that ended up defining him as the bastard he grew up to be. His first experience with magic had been the beginning of his loss of faith, and callous nature. He had been six. His father had stumbled home from the bar in a drunken stupor. As soon as he fell through the front door, he had immediately started beating on his wife. Severus did not understand what was different about today, but he had observed his mother weeping on and off as his father was absent at the bar. It wasn't until years later that he realized that, that day had been his parent's anniversary.

His father had come through the front door swinging. Severus watched as his mother was beaten senseless. As she lay crying on the floor, his father had climbed on top of her, and attempted to rape her.

The thing that Severus remembered most about that night was the way his mother's head had lolled to the side. They made brief eye contact and in that moment he realized that everything about his mother was dead and lifeless. Her eyes were empty as her husband assaulted her, but something flickered to life in her as Severus began to cry, truly understanding that he was alone in his life. A fire burned for a brief moment in her eyes and shoving her husband off of her, she reached into her pocket to grab what looked like a stick.

He remembered being confused at his mother's choice of defense, having never witnessed magic before. His father seeing what she was holding grew irate.

"Eileen," he taunted, "We don't allow such nonsense in this household."

She seemed to mumble nonsense, and Severus watched in shock as his father flew across the room to slam into the wall.

It was the only time he would witness his mother perform magic. His father was mostly uninjured, but now was enraged. Rising to his feet he grabbed a baseball bat that lay against the wall, and slowly advanced on his wife. Trembling in fear she dropped her wand. The first blow of the bat broke her arm, and the second dislocated her shoulder. Tobias Snape picked up his wife's wand and calmly snapped it in half.

"WHEN I MARRIED YOUR WORTHLESS ASS, WE AGREED THAT THERE WOULD BE NO MAGIC IN THE HOUSE. YOUR PUNISHMENT IS JUSTIFIED."

Severus watched as his father raised the bat above his mother's head, and then everything seemed to stop.

All night he had felt a little off, and had felt a coldness growing in his mind. At that moment he felt everything around him explode as he unleashed his first magic. The bat in his father's hands splintered with the force of it, and he slowly turned to face his son.

"You are no blood relation of mine. YOU ARE CONTAMINATED WITH THE DISEASE OF THE WHORE! YOU ARE NOTHING! YOU ARE NOT FIT TO CARRY THE SNAPE NAME!"

That was the first night his father had beaten him into unconsciousness. It was also the first time his mother had looked upon him with pride. That night she visited him, her injuries wrapped up in dirty rags. She said nothing, but left behind a couple small, leather bound books. Flipping through them the next day he realized that they were spell books, and in that moment he made the decision to never become weak and defenseless like his mother had. He would never stop fighting.

That instance in his childhood cemented the characteristics of the man he grew up to be. The rest of his childhood and young adult life was filled with a variety of challenges, and there were many times he almost gave up. But whenever he faltered _she_ would always fall into his life. Lily. She was truly the one thing that ever kept him going, and the one thing that made him question everything he thought he knew. She always managed to shake up his beliefs and his life. Even after death, her memory continued to haunt him. Everywhere he turned she was waiting. He could always feel her. The wind carried her scent, the snow caressed him in the same cold way she had, and sometimes he swore he saw her in the darkest corners of the dungeon. He could never be free of her.

Not that he wanted her to disappear. It was all he had left of her, even if it was a cold reminder of his greatest betrayal and failure. He had just reached a point in his life that he could freely think her name without shame or a sense of loss…. But then Hermione Granger had stepped into the picture.

She was similar to Lily in enough ways to be a constant reminder of her, but she was also very different. What was it with him and his weakness for headstrong female Gryffindors?

The silence at the lake was broken by the crunch of feet in the snow. He knew the gait and weight of the steps instantly. She sounded like she was trying to be quiet but failing spectacularly. He waited until she was close enough to hear him before saying, "You should not be out of bed, let alone out wandering the grounds at this time of night." He wasn't ready to face her. This spot was his and his alone. He knew she had been watching him out here for a while, but the fact that she felt confident enough to impede on his privacy here….the girl had no boundaries.

Earlier today she had witnessed his memories of the entire…event, and then had the gall to rebuke him for allowing someone like Crabbe into the school. Did she really think that lowly of him? Of course he had informed the Headmaster of Crabbe's unsavory extracurricular activities. But if they expelled him then his role as a spy would be revealed. He would be hunted down, tortured, and then killed…even Dumbledore wouldn't be able to keep him safe. It was a miracle he was still alive now… once word of Crabbe's death got out, the Dark Lord had held him responsible. He had spent a week incapacitated in his rooms after that meeting, but he got lucky. He was able to convince the Dark Lord that Crabbe's death had been the unfortunate result of a Fiendfyre accident. If Crabbe had been valued a little more in the Death Eater ranks, there would have been a more in depth investigation that would have easily unraveled his lies.

He sighed. He could feel her eyes boring into his back. Something must be bothering her, she hadn't spoken a word. Her silence was actually quite unnerving. Slowly, he spun to look at her.

She was dressed in a flimsy nightgown and slippers, and was visually shivering from the cold, but her eyes were burning with a flurry of emotion. Her face had a familiar haunted expression to it that he recognized from his own experience.

"Now is a poor time to stop using your brain, Miss Granger. You may be awake, but your body is still healing from your…ordeal." Unclasping his cloak he handed it to her. She wrapped it around herself gratefully. Feeling uncomfortable, he turned back to the lake and said, "Please return to the castle."

There was a length of silence before he heard her sit down with a crunch.

"Miss Granger, I do insist that you return inside. I will not ask again," he hissed.

Instead of looking scared of his anger, she asked "Sir, while I was in my coma, were you present at my bedside each night?"

The question caught him off guard, and he was embarrassed by the fact that he had spent every night in the Hospital Wing. "You needed potions administered frequently and at precise times throughout the night. No one else was capable of the task so it fell to me." While his statement was true, he knew that she saw through his words. He had stayed to give her the potions she needed, but also because he was afraid she would never wake up. Finding her burning alive had been life altering, and no matter how he viewed the situation he couldn't escape the fact that after saving her life, he had become invested in her future. Everything had become confusing for him when it came to her, hence why he was freezing at the goddamn lake.

She looked sincere as she said, "I cannot seem to sleep now. While I was unconscious, I guess I still sensed your presence… and I felt safe."

"This is highly inappropriate—"

"Oh shut up! You saved my life! I own you so much for your impeccable timing that night. I apologize for my words earlier today, they were inaccurate and ungracious. I do trust that you are doing what you can to protect this school. I'm having a hard time coping with what happened. I-I killed someone…" She stopped and looked at him. He could see how hard this was for her to talk about, but he understood…he had been in the same place she was at one time.

"…I see him screaming in my dreams every night. I see him burning alive, I can feel the heat… I can see his flesh burn away every time I close my eyes…" Tears streamed down her face and he felt sympathy at the haunted look behind her eyes. "Professor, have you ever killed anyone?"

He wasn't sure what surprised him more, the fact that she had spoken the question out loud or the fact that she was still ignorant enough to believe that he hadn't killed anyone in his life as a Death Eater. He sat in the snow next to her. He knew what she was seeking from him, and he also knew that he was the only one in this bloody school that could give her the answers she needed.

"Yes I have," he whispered staring out at the lake.

She did not seem overly surprised with his answer. "Who was it?"

"There have been many. Are you asking who have I killed by my own choosing or in my life as a Death Eater./?"

"By your own choices, sir."

"I killed my father."

He was amused to see that, that had surprised her.

"Will you please tell me about it, sir?"

She sounded desperate he realized, and the emotion did not suite her. He stayed silent and continued to stare off at the lake.

Hermione tried to accept his silence but after a couple minutes her resolve broke. Staring at him she whimpered, "Please sir… PLEASE. I don't know how to handle this…this… I see him burning all the time, awake and asleep. I can smell his flesh melting… I can feel him… p-pressed against me when he tried to r-rape me. IT WON'T GO AWAY. At first it was just nightmares, but now… IT'S STILL THERE WHEN I OPEN MY EYES…" She took a deep breath to try and stop her relentless shaking, but it made no difference. "I see him all the time now. I see him die over and over again. And I-I did that to him. I-I'm a murderer." She turned to look at him and her eyes seemed to darken. "Tell me sir, have you ever been afraid of yourself and what you might be capable of?"

As he watched her break down and then pick herself back up he realized that he had underestimated her. While her emotions did seem to run every decision she made, she used logic to understand what she was feeling. She knew that her remorse and the fear of herself were the root of all of her turmoil… She just didn't know how to solve this problem, and was looking to him for guidance. There were moments when he could see parts of his lonely teenage self in her and that scared him. They were similar in too many ways, the only difference being their treatment by others. He had been treated like filth and had, had to learn on his own how to solve his own issues. She, while out casted at first by her peers was able to make friends, albeit friends that used her to their own goals and advantages.

As Severus contemplated their similarities he realized he had a choice: he could abandon her to deal with her own problems and ultimately run the risk of turning her into a caustic version of himself, or he could help guide her and have her avoid the very lonely life that was a high possibility for her. He realized that for some ungodly reason the woman before him was putting her trust in him by exposing her vulnerable state. Sighing he made a decision.

Slowly rising to his feet he turned to her and said, "Follow me." Turning, he strode back to the castle, refusing to look back at her, but knowing she was there by the soft crunch of her footsteps. He led her through the silent castle and into his private chambers. Leaving her in an arm chair by the fire he went into his private study to retrieve what he needed.

Sitting across from her, he held out the object and asked, "Do you know what this is?"

She stared at it in confusion for a moment before answering, "It's a pensieve. But how did you get one? They are very rare and expensive."

He glanced down at the crude bowl. "I made it."

Her eyes seemed to bug out at him in surprise. "How?"

He scowled at her in response. "That's not why we are here Miss Granger." Her eyes darkened again, for a minute her expression had cleared, and she had seemed to forget her sorrows.

She nodded for him to continue.

"While Occlumency can help you defuse any strong emotions, it cannot lessen the experience for you. It seems to me, that you are suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. You are literally being haunted by your memories of that night." She nodded in understanding. "Most people would tell you to give it time or that time heals all wounds, or some other rubbish. While they are correct, time will allow these events to fade in their intensity, everyone seems to forget the damage that can be done while waiting for time to pass." His eyes shone with a rare glimpse of empathy as he looked at her. "Never forget that some wounds will never heal, Miss Granger. Sometimes you can only learn how to make them a part of your everyday life."

Looking at her, he expected to see pity, but instead her face was full of confusion and misery.

"The pensieve, as I'm sure you know, is able to store memories. In this way, you can remove the unsavory events from your mind. This won't erase the memory completely, but instead fade it slightly. It will make it easier for you to cope."

She seemed suspicious by the simplicity of his solution. "Is there a catch to all of this? Or a side effect?"

He chuckled. "Of course. Life's problems are never so easily solved. By removing these memories, you are just deterring the inevitable. While displacing your memories temporarily, you aren't actually dealing with the underlying problems associated with them. Once your memories are returned to your mind they will be as fresh to you as they were when you removed them. Eventually Hermione, you will need to cope with that night without the use of magic or intervention."

She looked startled at the use of her first name, but it was a necessity to make sure his point sunk in. "Are you sure you still want to do this?"

She hesitated and he could see her weighing the pros and cons in her mind. Finally, her face crumpled slightly in defeat. "Yes," she whispered.

"I need to remove the memories for you. It is a delicate process and if done incorrectly has the potential of causing permanent damage." She looked scared and stiffened in anticipation. "You need to relax and trust me. Bring the memory to the forefront of your mind, and concentrate on it and nothing else." He drew his wand and placed it against her temple, with his other hand he cupped her chin to life her eyes to his, as well as to keep her head still. "Ready?"

"Yes."

" _Legilimens._ "

He sank deep into the honey depths of her eyes to enter the chaos hidden beneath them. Her mind was slowly burning. The memories of that night flashed before him, but he saw only pieces here and there.

 _"Keep making that sound baby. I love it when you scream."_

Crabbe's voice filtered in and out of the scene in front of him.

 _"….Hermione…. I'm going to make you mine…"_

The voice was heavily laced with lust and hearing it sent chills up his spine. It truly was a blessing she killed him, he was a sick bastard that had tortured too many women. Concentrating he pulled all her memories of that night forward and out into his wand. As they left her head he also felt her turmoil receding, and the fires in her mind started to disappear. Using his magic he pushed a burst of cool air that radiated calm into her mind as he left. It had the effect he wished and he watched her slump back in her chair in an exhausted but more relaxed state. Letting her memories collect in the pensieve he leaned back to observe her.

She looked haggard. Her hair was a frizzy mess she had piled on top of her head in a quick bun. It seemed to strain against its confinement ready to burst forth in a puffy diaster. While she had always been slight in figure, her face seemed to be stretched across her cheek bones, leaving a sense of emotional strain and exhaustion behind. Her skin had gone from milky in pallor to an unsettling off white, with her sunken cheeks taking a purple tint instead of the typical rosy complexion. Looking into her eyes though he found the same burning determination that had always put her a cut above the rest of the students. But now there was darkness at the edges bringing depth the honey center. She seemed to have aged in the last week, and as exhausted as she was, he was surprised to admit that it suited her.

Standing he offered his hand. "It's time you returned to the Hospital Wing before you overexert yourself and collapse on my floor. I would rather not pick up any messes tonight."

She snorted at his statement and ignoring his hand said, "Sir, we aren't quite finished. I would like to hear the story of how you killed your father."

Dropping his hand he narrowed his eyes at her and the temperature in the room dropped as he fought to control his temper. "Do you have no boundaries or are you just lacking in manners tonight? Careful Miss Granger, your Gryffindor is showing."

Her face reddened in embarrassment. "I apologize for my impertinence. While removing the memories has lessened the… intensity of the experience, I need to understand how to cope with this once I am ready to face them once again. You are the only person I know that has directly made the decision to kill, and that will not murder me for asking for help to better understand my situation."

He grew silent and completely still. Moving suddenly, he caught her off guard and pinned her to the back of her chair. Dangerously, he moved his face within inches of her so she could see the cold fury in his eyes. "Do not mistake my intent for you to live as concern for your wellbeing. It is by Dumbledore's orders that you are still breathing. If I were to kill you, it would move me further up in the Death Eater ranks, and better my chances of bringing down the Dark Lord. I will not be used in the way you are attempting. Do not for one moment forget that you are standing the presence of a murdering Death Eater, and that your death would be nothing but a benefit me."

He could hear her chest heaving as she attempted to breathe through her fear. She had greatly underestimated him if she thought he was going to allow her to be a part of and invade the most private aspects of his life. Quickly he drew his wand and watched her eyes grow wide in terror as she scrambled to draw her own weapon.

" _Petrificus totalus._ "

Hermione's body became rigid and slowly slid to the floor. With a flick of his hand she lifted a couple inches off the ground and he led her back to the Hospital Wing. He didn't say a word to her, and did not look at her form floating behind him. Once she was carefully tucked back into her bed did he turn to look at her. She was watching him cautiously, stuck between rage and fear. Slowly his anger started to fade.

"The spell will wear off in a couple hours. Do try and sleep, it should be _easier_ for you now." He leaned close to her again and whispered, "Do not forget our lessons will commence at the start of the winter holiday. I hope you weren't planning on going home. Do not be late, and I do not want you in my presence between now and then. Stop seeking me out like a lost puppy. I have much more important things to do than to take care of indigent Gryffindors."

He watched the hurt form in her eyes at his harsh words and was surprised at the guilt he felt. Turning he let his cloak snap behind him as he left.

Returning to his rooms he poured himself a large glass of Fire Whiskey. The amber liquid warmed his throat and stomach, but couldn't rid him of the pain and growing depression he felt. Why did he disclose such personal and private information to her? Killing his father was the most horrific thing he had ever chosen to do. No one knew the details of that night, not even Dumbledore. He didn't even keep the memory in his head for god's sake, but locked up in a secret compartment.

After a couple more glasses of alcohol he found himself holding his worst memory, and slowly pouring it into his pensieve. He didn't know why he was viewing it again… but it was a compulsion he couldn't stop. Slowly, he lowered his head until the pensieve sucked him into his worst nightmare.

 _It was just after graduation. He had been chosen to join the ranks of the Death Eaters, much to his pride. Lucius Malfoy had offered his mansion as a home to Severus, knowing the filth and squalor he grew up in. He had graciously accepted and was heading back to his childhood home to say goodbye to his mother, and to collect what meager possession he owned._

 _After his fifth year at Hogwarts he had stopped coming home all together. Every time he did, his father would attempt to beat all of the magic out of him. Being underage and without many friends caused Severus to feel defenseless to the attacks. Things had been bearable when he had Lily…but after she had stopped speaking to him, he just didn't see the reason to return._

 _Apparating to an ally near his home, he started walking. His neighborhood had been a typical lower middle class grouping of houses until the factory closed and everyone lost everything. The homes were slowly abandoned, only to be used as drug and whore houses. Everything became run down and filthy, with the Snape's house being one of the few families left._

 _The thing he remembered most about that night was the way the red and blue police lights danced rhythmically across the pavement. The sight sent fear coursing through his veins, which seemed to be contrasted with the pattern quality of the flashing lights._

 _Running, he burst through the front door. The police marched all around his home, taking pictures, and rummaging through random belongings. No one seemed to notice him amidst all the chaos… until he found his mother._

 _She was sprawled on the floor in front of the fire place. Her arms and legs were all jutting out at odd angles as if they were all broken slowly, one at a time. Bones were shattered here and there with small fragments piercing through her skin. Her mouth was open wide in a gaping scream, but one side of her jaw had been dislocated. At her feet lay a baseball bat, identical to the one Severus had shattered with his first burst of magic so many years ago._

 _The worst part was the stench. Liquid and blood were dried on the floor beneath her; she had obviously been dead a couple of weeks._

 _He fell to his knees in grief and sorrow at the thought of his mother dying alone in this dump, at the hands of his father; who cared so little about his wife that he left her to rot after torturing and murdering her._

 _As the activity around him ceased, Severus realized that he was growling in grief and rage._

 _"You can't be in here kid-"_

 _"Where is he?"_

 _"Come on—"_

 _"WHERE IS HE? TOBAIS SNAPE."_

 _The cops stopped to look at each other. "The suspect? He's been missing for a couple of days. Who are you? I need to see some identification kid."_

 _Severus stood up and apparated on the spot, not caring about the consequences. He landed outside the nearest pub. Walking inside he immediately spotted his target. His father was draped over a young blonde, whispering in her ear, one hand rested on her tits, the other on her ass._

 _Without a word Severus grabbed him by the collar and dragged him from the pub, ignoring the protests of the girl left behind._

 _Apparating again, he dropped his father in an empty field._

 _Tobias Snape landed face first on the ground, and looking up, laughed at the sight of Severus. "Looks like you have some balls after all."_

 _Severus was silent in response._

 _"Say, what's your mother been up to these days? Well besides bleeding and dying all over my floor."_

 _"You didn't deserve her."_

 _"NO, WHAT I DIDN'T DESERVE WAS HAVING A WHORE FOR A WIFE AND A FREAK FOR A SON. NOT THAT YOU'RE MINE ANYWAYS, BITCH COULDN'T KEEP HER LEGS CLOSED. SHE DESERVED EVERYTHING SHE GOT. HER DEATH WAS SWEETER THAN HER WORTH."_

 _Time seemed to stop for Severus, much in the same way it did when he discovered his magic as a child, except this time everything grew unbearably cold. His vision went red with rage as he used his new found Elemental Magic to turn the water in his father's body to ice. With a snap of his fingers, the ice crystals burst from his father in a shower of blood. His body was riddled with holes as he collapsed on the ground. Blood gushed and pooled beneath him, and Severus knew that he would bleed out quickly._

 _But it wasn't enough for him. Drawing his wand he used the curse he had developed, 'Sectumsempra' to slice away at his father's flesh until there was nothing but a bleeding lump of meat._

 _Exhausted by his endeavor, Severus collapsed, magically drained and unconscious. As everything faded into black he thought he could hear his father laughing with his dying breath and the sound seemed to echo in his mind._

 _When he came to, he saw what he had done, and vomited all over himself. Looking at his hands, he saw they were caked with blood and knew his face didn't fare much better. Casting a cleansing charm, he apparated to the Malfoy Manor, leaving his father in the state he belonged: dead and abandoned._

For weeks afterwards he had nightmares until he removed the memory from his mind. Even today he still kept it tucked away. Years afterwards he was still expecting someone to come looking for him with questions… but no one had. He wondered if it was because the authorities had been paid off, or far more likely: no one cared.

Every couple of years he would bring the memory out of its container to view it. Not to fuel his anger or hatred, or even as a last reminder of his mother, but instead to watch the moment on his father's face when he realized that he was going to die. Seeing that hated face crumpled in pain and defeat gave a joy to Severus that nothing else in his life could.

Picking up his glass he poured himself another Fire Whiskey, and watched the red and blue lights dance rhythmically behind his eyes as they always did after viewing his nightmare.

Taking a large gulp of the burning liquid, he wondered, not for the first time, how many qualities of the monster had he inherited from his father.


End file.
